


Christmas Present

by pleasesayitsnotso



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adorable, Affection, Attraction, Banter, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cute, Emotional, F/M, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Gift Giving, Humor, Love, Return, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5445734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasesayitsnotso/pseuds/pleasesayitsnotso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Shot: Steve has been trying to rid his mind of the occupation of one redheaded spy, however upon her unexpected return she reminds him why he was thinking of her in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Present

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers
> 
> So this was originally a Secret Santa gift from last year, so I thought "Hey why not post them up.", especially since I've been so horrific at writing stories recently.
> 
> Also since these were written last year apologies if you think, "Jeez her writing has got bad.", I blame my past self and the laziness of my current self not to edit and make it better.
> 
> Anyhow hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!

_“I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything."_

_— F. Scott Fitzgerald_

* * *

 

     Sat in the arm chair of his flat Steve held a solitary beer in one hand, his fingers strumming against the cool hard glass, amidst a flurry of melancholy thoughts that seemed to haunt him wherever he went. The occupation of his flat instead of the Avengers tower had been of his own choosing, purposefully, despite it being the location of many of his beloved friends, one was missing. Her absence had affected him more than he would have cared to admit, throughout their ordeal during the collapse of S.H. I. E. L. D. they had forged an unmitigated bond, one that neither could have predicted. In a poor attempt to flee the reminders of the ferocious red head he had sought solitude in his flat, however he now found himself staring at the small red box that lay on his coffee table, a gift for her. He had never been good at picking out gifts, not that he had ever been able to afford any before, but as soon as he saw it he knew it was meant for her. At that thought a heavy sigh escaped from his lips, permeating the despondent silence that now embodied the room, before he took a swig from his beer. He glanced out the window, observing the snowflakes that swirled, furled and fluttered past the glass out into the dark abyss that was the night. His crystal blue eyes flickered as they followed the soft graceful movement of the snow, before he was interrupted by a knock at the door, causing his gaze to flicker towards it in astonishment and bewilderment at such an intrusion on a night such as this. With his failure to ignore the intrigue that tugged at him, he got up and padded towards the door, his beer still in his hand. On opening the door a woman stood before him, her large furry hood sodden by melted snow and obscuring her face from his view,

“Can I help you ma’am?” At that the petite pale hand of said woman reached up and pulled back her hood revealing the long luxurious crimson curls that unmistakably belonged to her, accompanied by her trademark smirk and the mesmerizing gleam of her emerald eyes. It was unquestionably Natasha Romanoff,

“Ma’am? You seriously still say ma’am?” The curvature of her smile betrayed the affectionate taunt she had thrown his way, because despite her abhorrence of the word, especially when applied to herself, she had missed hearing it from his lips. The expression he now wore was one of overwhelming astonishment, causing his eye brows to remain raised high upon his forehead, whilst his mouth gaped open slightly forming a small ‘o’, and she delighted in it readily,

“Merry Christmas Rogers.” A charming smile took hold of her rosebud lips causing her cheeks to ascend pleasingly and two adorable dimples to make themselves known, his azure eyes scanned her beautiful features frantically as he felt his heart become consumed by the spell of her presence. She was here. Despite the joy he felt at her arrival he had failed to utter one word, and his expression was still rather frozen into a state of shock, inducing Natasha to tilt her head forward and to glance up through her thick lashes oh so delectably, as she jibed,

“Lost your manners Captain? Can I come in?” Finally his body allowed him to communicate as he moved and with a brisk, flustered and whole hearted apology he moved to one side to allow her inside his flat. As she walked past she glanced at his beer before cheekily asking,

“I hope there’s one for me.” As she shimmied her coat off her shoulders, Steve chuckled and responded with a warm,

“Of course.” Whilst Natasha hung her coat up and made her way towards the sofa, Steve walked to his fridge procuring a beer and opening it for her, before he too made his way towards the sofa she now occupied comfortably. With her legs tucked beneath her, she inquired,

“No Christmas decorations?” His voice echoed delightfully into the room from the kitchen as he replied hesitantly,

“Well it’s only me... so... if anything it reminds me of what I’ve left behind so...” As he passed her a beer, an indifferent shrug of his shoulders followed the tailing off of his reply, and an adorable sheepish expression now sculpted his features. Natasha smiled warmly back at him as her delicate figures procured the beer from him, and she replied kindly,

“Thanks... fair enough, I’m not one for Christmas either to be honest; I’ve only celebrated it a few times.” Taking a satisfying sip from her beer, her eyes closed momentarily as she basked in the content of consuming the pleasantly cool beverage, whilst Steve now placed himself beside her on the sofa with a questioning expression on his face,

“How so?” At that she looked out the window at the icy dark night she had just escaped from, her features seemed to have momentarily lost their enchanting glow as her eyes dulled and her features stiffened before she responded candidly,

“Well let’s just say when you’re in the Red Room, their main aim isn’t to ensure you all have a happy Christmas. To them you’re a weapon; nothing more... weapons don’t celebrate Christmas.” At that she took another sip of her beer, her eyes still not reaching his as he drank her in, the solitary beauty she possessed causing him to yearn to comfort her. A need to ease the pain of the past, but if Steve knew anything it was that ridding someone of the ghosts from their past was a battle you were bound to lose. His voice gently broke through the silent melancholy of the room,

“I’m so sorry Nat.” As quickly as it had appeared the shadows that had darkened her attractive features dispelled to allow a soft smile to grace her lips, and the captivating sparkle to return to her eyes,

“Hey don’t be, you don’t miss what you never had.” A pang struck his chest in accompaniment to her comment, despite its flippant use by the spy; he knew that it applied to a lot more than missing out on Christmas. At that painful thought Steve took a large swig of his beer before he was faced with a question from Natasha,

“How was Christmas for you?” Steve looked down awkwardly at the beer in his hand, his thumb started to scratch at the label on the bottle as he channelled his discomfort, however he replied,

 “Well we were never well off what with dads drinking, but mum always managed to save up just enough to afford a good dinner and a gift for me....”  At that he lifted his head and smiled at the memory of his beloved mother, her gracious smile, long golden tresses and the general warmth and love that constantly emanated from her,

“I remember the year she got me a sketch book and a pack of pencils... I thought I was the luckiest kid ever.” Despite the slight smile that adorned his lips, his eyes betrayed the deep sorrow that frequently accompanied the memories of his past, causing his head to lower again and his thumb to scratch even more insistently at the label of his bottle. Before the wave of grief had time to fully consume him he felt the warmth of a delicate finger tilting his chin upwards, enabling him to find salvation in the face of the woman who had saved him in so many ways, and still did. With a comforting smile and a soothing tone she stated,

 “She sounds like a wonderful mother Steve, she’d be proud of you.” Her hand had now found its way to his cheek, her thumb brushing in an endearing manner along his cheekbone, as the warmth of her words and touch displaced the heavy grief that clung to his chest. Without thinking his free hand placed itself on top of the hand that held his face so tenderly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a manner that begged for her to stay in this moment, begged her not to leave again. At that thought he closed his eyes and whispered the secret he so wanted to say, the secret he had longed for someone to know of,

“I missed you Nat.” Listening sharply for her response Steve refused to open his eyes until she had spoken, however her hand still remained on his cheek and he could only take that as a positive. A moment later she replied in a soft cordial manner,

“I know.” Finally he opened his eyes to allowing himself to indulge in the elegant and breathtaking beauty that she unknowingly held, and he revelled in silent delight at the contented smile that rested on her lips. Glancing at the red box he made his decision, and so as he placed his beer on the table, Natasha’s hand slipping from his face, he grabbed hold of the box before decidedly presenting it to her with the accompaniment of a coy,

“Merry Christmas.”  Looking down at the small box cradled in Steve’s large hands Natasha felt the slight murmurings of astonishment and disbelief strike her, and despite her composed facade she could not suppress the question that spilled from her lips,

“Seriously?” An amused grin spread across the soldiers face, and Natasha relished the way his features lit up in a manner that was incredibly rare and she made a note to make him look like this more often. With a slight chuckle Steve mirrored her inquiry,

“Seriously.” Once Natasha had placed her beer on the table, she hesitantly plucked the box from his hands, and after a moment of contemplation and self restraint she opened the lid revealing inside a single small emerald stone on a thin silver chain, simple and elegant, it was perfect. Steve watched her avidly, trying to decipher whether she liked the gift or not, before he spied the subtle up turn of the edge of her lips, as she procured the necklace from the box. Holding it in her hands she admired it gladly as she sincerely uttered,

“Thanks Steve.” Titling her head slightly forward and placing it around her neck, she did the clasp up before raising her head and bestowing her attention back on to Steve, she enquired jovially,

“So how does it look?” His perfect sapphire eyes seemed to positively glow as they swept across her, devouring every inch of her in a gaze of utter adoration before he leant forward and held the emerald stone in his hand, causing him to be incredibly close to her. Placing his gaze back on her, she felt the soft whisper of his breath across her cheeks, their noses nearly touching as he uttered in a positively alluring tone,

“Beautiful.” Their eyes locked in parry of will, as both tried to figure out their next move, however Steve’s internal battle against his feelings and what was right and respectful to a lady such as Natasha, was interrupted as he felt the soft touch of her lips on his. The kiss despite its chaste nature ignited a spark within their chests that neither would have anticipated. As they broke apart momentarily, their eyes met again and both knew that whatever they had just started wasn’t going to stop now. Both of Steve’s hands cupped her face, his fingers intertwining with her crimson curls, as his lips crashed against hers in a manner that caused her skin to tingle with a satisfying burn. Her hands grasped hungrily at the front of his sweater pulling him closer to her and longing to feel more of him. Their lips moved in a rabid passionate synergy that had come so naturally to the pair, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths and yearning to display the affection that both had held for each other for so long.   **Despite their long absence from one another, amidst the dangers they had encountered, their affections had laid decidedly with one another and within the spirit of Christmas they had finally found each other.**

 


End file.
